


Risky Business

by LadyDrace



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Anal Sex, Dark, Dominance, Established Relationship, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak accepts the risks of having Julian in his life. Especially because he offers something Julian can't find anywhere else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risky Business

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Tli was awesome as always. Thanks, darling!

It was risky. Garak admitted this to himself frequently, even while he was busy breaking every one of his self imposed rules about risk management. He had many of them.

Still, he would be the first to concede that anyone with half a brain would be able to see quite clearly how to get something on him these days. All right, maybe not _anyone_ , but certainly less intelligent individuals than those he had outwitted in the past.

Right now, at this moment, all it would take was good hearing to reveal Garak's weakest point. Because if there was one flaw with the Cardassian design of the space station currently known as Deep Space Nine, it was that it was designed by a species with less acute hearing than most. The soundproofing left something to be desired. Sure, the doors and walls were adequately muffled, but the floors and ceiling? Not so much.

And yet, knowing all of this, Garak had never tried to restrict the noise level in his quarters. In fact, his current pet project was to find out just how loud he could make his delightful bedmate wail. Whether it was from pain or pleasure he didn't much care. As long as the subject of his attention kept begging for it like that, Garak would be happy to provide. Risks be damned.

Because it was intoxicating, this willingness. In his youth, people had been noisy from his handiwork every day, but it was rarely by choice. The utter trust displayed by the body under him was a new and addictive experience. Nobody had ever trusted him like this.

The smallest taps from Garak's hands would make the body twist and turn, eagerly awaiting whatever treatment he saw fit. Even when the reward was pain the supple limbs never shied away. Any avenue Garak chose to explore was open to him.

A particularly loud whine brought Garak back to the moment. Pleasure, this time. And, oh - if the pleasure wasn't as exquisite or even more so than the pain his hands were used to in another life... Garak paused to review his work.

Julian Bashir, Doctor and Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine was currently reduced to a shivering being of want. Shuddering breaths caused the smooth chest to rise and fall erratically and Garak followed a bead of sweat with his gaze as it made its way from fevered brow, past curled hair at the temple to finally end its voyage on rumpled sheets.

Hazel eyes opened to slits when the owner realised that nothing more was coming. Dry lips were wetted with a nervous tongue and words were being formed. Garak wouldn't have that. No words. Only more of those delicious sounds.

Casually, Garak bent to the sweat-slicked chest and tasted. Licked and sucked. Soft whining gave way to a sharp cry when Garak suddenly sank his teeth into the lower edge of the ribcage. Red marks flared for a moment, but quickly dulled to mere shadows of themselves. Perfect.

There were no restraints. Garak had been surprised when he realized that Julian was quite serious when he said that he would follow Garak's every command of his own free will, even if the order was to stay still for pain. Garak had tested that particular boast several times before finally having to concede that Julian was indeed being truthful. Not that the poor boy had one decent lying bone in his body, even after years of Garak attempting to teach him, but still. It never hurt to check one's facts.

One thing that still remained annoyingly unclear was what Julian was getting out of the arrangement. The progression from friends to _something else_ had obvious benefits to himself as far as Garak could see. He was, after all, completely alone with nobody else to turn to for relief. But Julian had never had much trouble finding willing partners for at least one night of pleasure - or pain, for that matter. So why was he coming back for this undefinable thing they had, night after night?

When asked about it, even under the influence of quite a bit of pain, Julian would always say the same thing. “Because I trust you.” Which was no damn help at all. Garak suspected that even though the words were quite clear, the meaning lost something either over the universal translator or across the monumental gap of cultural differences. Either way, he was baffled. And he didn't like being unsure of something he was taking significant risks to have.

Another rough bite, this time to Julian's collarbone, brought the immediate reward of a perfect gasp. Air pulled in between only slightly parted lips, shocked lungs pulling too much air through too narrow a gap, making the sound sharp and clear like silver bells in dark caves, guiding the curious to certain death, swift and sweet.

Damn the risks.

Julian's breathing was shallow and rapid now, and his hands twitched even as they lay obediently still on either side of his head. More signs of being close to breaking point told Garak that playtime was over. Garak was never sure exactly what Julian would need when it came to this point before they were actually there. All he knew was that when this moment arrived, Garak was no longer the master. When the signs started coming, Garak was the slave. Slave to Julian's need.

As much as Julian claimed that he was giving control to Garak like it was a precious gift, Garak knew better. Even when Julian complained later about being sore or calling Garak all sorts of cruel things for ending the latest round with pure pain and no sexual climax, his body would always betray him, telling Garak “thank you” every time he breathed that deep, relaxed breath only true release can provide.

This night was apparently a night where pleasure was the needed commodity. Garak understood the concept of supply and demand much more intimately than his small business let on and he was nothing if not accommodating.

He stripped as fast as he could and crawled back onto the bed. Julian seemed boneless and limp when Garak arranged them for the final stretch, but the way all the hairs on his body were standing on end and the subtle shudder at the end of each shallow breath told Garak that he was cutting it close. Julian was right there on the edge already and if Garak didn't catch up very fast, the trapped energy would simply fizzle, like air out of a leaking balloon, leaving all the darkness inside to fester.

While hitching Julian's legs over his shoulders with one hand, his other was busy spreading his naturally generous amounts of precome down the length of his shaft. That was all he had time for and frankly, even when he did have more time for preparation, he often didn't bother with it. Julian certainly seemed to appreciate the extra bit of intensity, even though Garak had been worried about hurting him more than once. A strange notion, considering he usually spent a great amount of time doing just that.

Maybe it was that unacknowledged shift in power. The moment where Garak was no longer seeing to his own need for release but switched to only caring about Julian's. Or maybe it was the thought of breaking the tender skin. He was a master of pain, but he always stopped short at blood. If you had to make your subject bleed, you were an amateur. Garak had known this since his earliest days as an interrogator.

He pushed into Julian in one long and steady slide, stopping only when he bottomed out. Just one deep breath and then he started a brutal pace, fucking Julian into the hard mattress roughly enough that Julian's back would probably be red from the friction against the sheets when they were done.

Garak was focused entirely on the response from the body beneath him. He had caught it just in time and he could feel Julian's tension coiling and rising, like some venomous snake, rearing for the lightning quick bite. And Garak bared his throat gladly for the viper, feeling how the venom would rush out of Julian, leaving him drained and pure, while Garak absorbed all the darkness. He was, after all, an expert. He knew exactly how to harness the toxins that would rot Julian's soul but would easily fuel Garak's desires. It was, as the bland, yet descriptive Human phrase goes: a win-win situation.

He never kissed Julian so close to the peak. All he took for himself at those moments were the sounds and he wouldn't want to muffle them in any way. In any case, Julian seemed to far gone to notice, his eyes squeezed shut and his fists clenching and unclenching on air. He certainly stopped putting any sort of effort into being quiet, which told Garak that even though he had cut it close, he had built it up just right.

Julian cried out with every thrust, and his short, desperate inhales whistled wetly, as though he didn't even have the presence of mind to swallow his spit. Garak put a little more force behind his thrusts while still keeping up the pace and Julian's wailing reached a slightly higher pitch before suddenly he was there, over the edge, with a final scream so high that his vocal cords simply could not follow and left it all coming out in a pained exhalation. There was a slightly gurgling sound towards the end that made it sound like his lungs were trying to turn themselves inside out, while his cock certainly seemed like was trying to do the same.

But then he finally stopped and took in a deep breath, opened his eyes to meet Garak's and let out a deep, rattling moan which Garak knew was meant for him. For someone so young and occasionally naïve, Julian knew exactly what made Garak's blood rush. One last thrust into Julian's lax body earned Garak one more moan and that was enough. He spilled himself with a sharp cry of his own and let himself collapse on top of the mess and the man emerging from it.

Julian always kissed him so carefully afterwards. As if he'd break apart from anything more than butterfly wings on his skin. Garak assumed it was because Julian thought that all the tension must be packed tight under Garak's skin, not knowing that Garak could take all Julian had to give and then some.

Later, when they had cleaned up and crawled under clean sheets for a night of sated sleep, Garak lay awake, pondering the eternal question: “Why? Why me?”

He must have said it out loud, because Julian stirred slightly, mere moments from sleep and replied: “Because I trust you.”

Garak felt his frustration begin to build. Always that same, useless answer. But then Julian continued, only just loud enough for Garak to hear: “And because you're the best.” Then he started snoring.

Eyes wide open in the dark room, Garak let his mind whirl for a while before finally making sense of it. Julian hadn't let him come close enough for things to progress to this before certain aspects of Garak's past had become too clear for him to lie convincingly about. He had waited until he knew that Garak had been the highest ranking torturer in the quadrant before handing himself over to be... what? Cured? There was obviously something dark inside Julian, but even Garak didn't know what it was. He doubted very much that Julian himself did either.

But Julian hadn't wanted to hand his secrets over to just any twisted soul with a whip. He had wanted only the one able to take all the bad, leaving just the things Julian could bear, and only someone he could also face the next day over lunch.

Truthfully, Garak felt he was far from his old level of skill, but he was still the best at this. The best at digging out what was hidden and holding it for safe keeping for however long it was needed.

“Clever, clever boy,“ Garak thought to himself before finally letting sleep claim him.

Risks be damned.

End.


End file.
